Chapter 12
Dylan strode toward the wedding car with Cheryl in his arms, looking like a triumphant general who’d just won a battle. Although his expression was as stony as always, it was evident to anyone watching that he was thrilled.
Francis and Meredith were a little confused. Dylan wasn’t quite the man they’d expected him to be. Perhaps Cheryl had made the right choice after all.
In the wedding car, Dylan and Cheryl shifted awkwardly in their seats. Dylan didn’t know what to say, and Cheryl felt just as clueless.
Then, they both tried to speak at the same time. Together, they started, “You-”
Upon noticing Dylan’s nervousness, Cheryl suddenly relaxed.
“You first,” suggested Cheryl.
“Are you hungry? 1 prepared some snacks, since it’ll be a long day for you,” Dylan said. His tone was laced with concern as he studied Cheryl’s slender figure.
Instinctively, Cheryl replied, “Alright, thanks.”
“You don’t have to be
SO
polite with me.” Dylan was a little frustrated by her stiff courtesy.
“Hmm?” His response sparked Cheryl’s curiosity. Dylan seemed different from how he’d been described.
Eyeing Dylan’s ears, tinged slightly red from blushing, Cheryl could tell that he didn’t abhor the idea of their arranged marriage.
As soon as they arrived at the hotel, Cheryl was whisked away to change into her wedding dress.
The dress was a work of art. Every stitch was meticulously executed, and it was imbued with the creativity and dedication of its designers. Cheryl was entranced by the dress the second she laid eyes on it.
As Cheryl’s makeup artist, Polly Orwell, and the rest of Cheryl’s companions followed her into the room, they gasped, “It’s gorgeous!”
When Cheryl stepped out of her dressing room after changing into it, everyone was floored by Cheryl’s beauty, which had been further magnified by the magnificence of her wedding dress.
Polly examined Cheryl’s flawless skin and marvelled, not for the first time, at how no amount of makeup could truly recreate those naturally perfect features. Thus, she put as much effort as possible into further enhancing Cheryl’s charm. It seemed to have been blessed by the goddess of beauty herself.
“Let’s welcome our bride,” announced Richard Murkens, their wedding emcee. As he spoke, the doors to the grand hall swung open.
Everyone’s eyes were drawn to Cheryl, who walked in with her arm linked with Francis‘. Like a fairy, she glided gracefully down the hall, shrouded in her gorgeous
dress.
Dylan felt as though a love arrow had been shot straight through his heart.
Everything was going swimmingly–unbelievably so. Cheryl’s hand was placed in his by Francis. Nervousness made Dylan’s movements clunky and out of sync. Studying Dylan’s behavior, Francis was struck once again by the fact that Cheryl had made the correct decision for herself. He and Meredith could put their worries aside. He got off the stage and returned to his seat beside Meredith, patting her hand. When their eyes met, they smiled with a mutual understanding of their unspoken relief.
“Dylan, do you promise to stay true to your vows by loving, honoring, consoling, and protecting Cheryl for better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health?”
Dylan gazed determinedly into Cheryl’s eyes and stated, “I do.”
His fiery eyes struck Cheryl to the core. She did not doubt that Dylan adored her, but how had he developed feelings for her in the first place? For a moment, Cheryl was distracted by her thoughts.
Noticing her anxiety, Dylan hooked his pinky with hers.
“I do!”
“You may now kiss the bride!”
With the utmost reverence, Dylan pressed a kiss onto Cheryl’s forehead.
